Burning Like Embers, Charred Like Cole
by NothingMoreNothingLess
Summary: On hiatus. “The witches killed Balthazar. Their blood, their sweat, and their tears have gone into vanquishing him, not once but twice. Maybe that’s what I need to have to get… to bring him back. I need the blood of three… the blood of the Charmed Ones.”
1. Back In The Game

**_AN:_ Here are a few things ya'll need to know: Leo is still a whitelighter. Phoebe never lost her active powers. The Avatars, forget about 'em. And anything to be with Billie and Christy never happened.**

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Charmed unfortunatly. It would still be running if I did. I do, however, own all the mistakes; spelling, plotline, timeline, ect.**

**ENJOY!

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Cold is the only thing I've felt in a while. It's all I know, all I remember. All I have is vague memories, imprints of iridescent, almost sheer colors. So when I open my eyes to vivid, tangible colors… sights, its shocking. The smell is awful, like stale water and burnt wood. The room doesn't look much better... if you can call the echoing cavern a room.

The little man standing over me grins when I look at him, looking mighty proud of himself. He reaches out to touch me and I am immediately on defense. I throw my hands up to protect myself and a bolt of lightning flies.

He throws himself to the ground, the bolt just missing his head. I stare at my hands, a sense of déjà vu washing over me. I slowly lift my hands again, flexing my fingers, choking on a scream when a ball of fire appears in the palm of my hand.

The little man whimpers, slowly scooting away from me. I close my eyes, wishing like hell I could remember something, anything. As soon as I finish thinking, wishing that, I see a picture in my mind. The scenes flash by, one after the other, the onslaught of memories taking my breath away. The coldness fades away, replaced with a burning anger, a fire that was banked but not extinguished.

I open my eyes, staring straight at the little alcamist who'd brought me back. He cowers in fear as I toss the fireball from hand to hand, getting reacquainted with my power. I grin, loving the familiar, and welcome, feeling of power wash over me.

I extinguish the fire and stand up slowly, stretching my arms above my head, cramped from being immobile for so long. I look down at the cowering alcamist, and smile. "Get up already, alcamist. If I was going to kill you I would have already." I demand my voice deeper than I remember.

He stands quickly; staying a good ten feet away from me… like that will keep him safe from me. I bow my head, my dark hair cascading around my shoulders. I reach up and touch it, remembering it being much shorter. "What year is it?" I snap, my eyes flying to lock with the alcamist's.

He looks confused, shaking his head, wondering what he got himself into. "E-excuse me?" He's shaking so bad that I'm almost sorry from him… almost.

I roll my eyes, having always despised the freaky little creatures called alcamists. "What year is it?" I growl, my voice echoing off the damp walls, scaring the pipsqueak close to death.

He backs against the wall, still shaking so bad that his head bangs against it. "Y-year? Um… it's, uh, t-two thousand s-six." he stammers, nervously. I do the math in my head. Ninety eight years. That's how long I've been sealed, in the dark cold. Put there by the one person I trusted.

I clench my hand, needing to break something… preferable his face. But pickers can't be choosers, at least not yet. I look back at the alcamist, a smirk on my face. "Don't worry; you'll be rewarded for your help." I say, grinning with pure malice.

His eyes go wide, as I flex my fingers, a fireball materializing. I barely move my arm, using my wrist to send it flying at the petrified man. I watch gleefully as he bust into flame, glad to be back in the game.

But as much fun as that was, I've got a bigger demon to fry.


	2. Mind Control, Brilliant!

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Charmed. I'm just a dreamer who came up with this plotline...

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When I was younger I never really appreciated the power of foresight. I was a power hungry demon, who wanted to be the strongest and best at everything, and being able to "see" into the future didn't really help with that. But now I am really glad I have the "borrowed" power, because it saved me a lot of trouble.

Because being entombed for almost a hundred years, I've missed a lot. And I probably would have drawn unwanted attention dressed in my old fashion ass kicking outfit. So at least I knew what I was going into before hand, because of the foresight. Times have defiantly changed, but its fine with me. I was never really in to the whole eighteenth century stuff anyway. But this century looks like a blast… literally.

I wait until the flames die down the shimmer into the ally, sneaking up on the demons. "Boo." I whisper gently. They jump, the short one immediately lunging at me with an athyme. I duck under his arm, grabbing his hand and push the athyme into his stomach, grinning as he burst into flame.

I hear the other's footsteps behind me, and duck just in time to avoid getting knocked out by his impressively big fists. I crouch down, swinging out my leg and kicking the demon's legs out from under him. His weight, and the momentum from the punch, forces him down, and I'm immediately over him, with the athyme to his neck.

He relaxes slightly as the athyme digs into his throat. "What do you want, bitch?" he hisses, breathing heavily in my face. I scrunch my nose as the smell of his breath hits me.

"First off, do something about your breath. You want to kill the innocents, not make them pass out. And second, I want information. I've been kind of… indisposed, I guess you could say, the past almost hundred years, and I'm a little behind." I tell him, grinning.

"Are you kidding me?" he growls in the back of his throat, and makes a move to grab me. I press the athyme deeper into his neck, drawing blood, and then laughing gleefully as he puts his hand up in surrender. "Fine, what do you want to know?" he says, trying to be calm.

I just grin, and then shimmer us both back to the alcamists lair. I get up the minute we stop, smirking as his hand flies to his throat. "Sorry, I didn't want to have this conversation in the ally where some overcurious mortal could interrupt."

He smiles, causing me to wince when he reveals some seriously rotting teeth. "Bad move, bitch. You should have kept the athyme to my neck." he laughs, throwing an energy ball at me. I simply put up my hand, reflecting it back at him. He tries a few more time, failing miserably.

Finally he figures I'm not worth it and tries to fade out, but the protection spell I'd put on the lair prevented him from leaving. "Now, if you're done fooling around, we can get this over with." I exclaim, finding this hilarious after been locked for nearly a hundred years…

He looks around frantically, trying to find an escape. When he doesn't he turns back to me, pissed off. "What the hell did you do? Why can't I teleport?" he shouts, getting up in my face.

I just smile and extend my hand toward the stone slab in the center of the room, the only kind of seating. "It's a protection spell. Nobody but me can get in or out. Unless I let them in or out, that is. Please sit down, try to make yourself comfortable." I croon, testing out the power I'd been struggling with before the whole entombment thing.

I watch, fascinated, as this 6"2 demon follows my instruction and sits down. I throw my head back, and laugh. "Mind control… brilliant!" I murmur excitedly.

I circle around the slab, trying to break in the sexy black heels I conjured before, and try something else. "Hmm, lets see, what else can we do, huh? I know, bark like a dog." I crack up when this semi powerful demon starts barking like the damn dog he is.

I put up my hand, and he stops, falling silent. "Good boy, that's my good little sidekick. Or… uh, make that big sidekick." I giggle, quickly catching myself. After all, I'm not thirteen anymore.

"Now, what can you tell me about a certain demon? A demon they call Belthazor…"


	3. It's Only Temporary

**_Disclaimer:_ I own Charmed. And if you really believe that you need your head checked out...

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I storm into the mausoleum in a huff, tossing the damn painful heels onto the crypt. I can't believe my luck, or lack therefore of. The bastard's dead, vanquished by the Charmed Ones. Of course he's dead! He never could make anything easy for me. Always had to be difficult, stubborn.

What really surprises me though is that fact that he fell in love with a witch… a Charmed One no less! I never would have though that would happen. Belthazor was never really one for feelings, beside the adrenalin rush of being evil, or the adrenalin rush of pursing a woman. Demon or mortal, didn't matter to him which. Least it didn't when he was younger.

I can still feel his essence here, in this mausoleum, hell in the cemetery itself, even though it's been over a year since he's really been here. Over a year since he "died" the second time. He was always close to his father, always coming here when he wanted to hide, or when he was pissed. Huh, I guess he was more in touch with his human side than I thought.

Not that it really matters. I'm still going to kick his ass. I don't care if he's the Source of all Evil, Belthazor, or the Charmed One's damn husband. Doesn't even matter that he's dead. There are ways around that. Death, as is life, is really only temporary anyway.

But in order to pull anything of the likes off, I'm going to need more power than I have. Way more power. I may be one powerful demoness, but even I don't have enough power to bring someone back from the dead. It'd be cool if I did though.

But I know someone, or some ones I guess, who would have enough power when combined with mine. But it's going to take a lot to fool the Charmed Ones. Which means that ass kicking is going to have to wait… awhile, unfortunately. I'm starting to think that if I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all.

What I need is powers, witches powers, so I can get close to them. Make them trust me, present myself in a non-harmful, non-threatening way. I'm going to have to try and "borrow" some powers. And soon, hopefully, I'll have enough to face the Charmed Ones. Well, face them and get out alive, that is.

But right now, I have got a hell of a lot of preparing to do.


	4. Upside Down

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Charmed. I wished I did, but my genie is currently on strike...

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I shimmer into the lair, cringing as the smell hits me. My arm is killing me. That last witch sure was feisty, mimicking my power to use against me. That power is sure going to come in handy someday. Maybe even sooner then I thought if things continue the way they're going.

"Rodriguez? Where the hell are you?" I snap, still pissed that the damn witch had gotten the upper hand. I tear my bloodstained sleeve at the elbow, checking out the painful burns. Burns caused by one of my own lightening bolts. Stupid witch shouldn't have pissed me off. She had it coming.

I hear my lackey before I see him, his weight causing the floor to tremble slightly. I'm really going to have to get a new place before he causes this cave to clasp. It's already structurally weak as it is, and it gets worse everyday he's stomping around the place. "Yes, m'lady?" he asks, the words sounding weird coming from the brute.

I stare at my arm as the burns slowly fade, revealing smooth skin again. I look up at him with a glare. "Where the hell were you? I could have used your help with that witch, but you were nowhere to be found." I exclaim, purposely morphing into my demonic form. I'm pissed, and I want someone to show a little fear and respect toward me.

His eyes go wide, having never seen this side of me, and backs up a step. I smirk, revealing my razor sharp teeth, in a lot better shape then his. "Next time I call you, you come. Do I make myself clear?" I say gently, knowing talking calmly when they know you're angry is scarier then yelling. Especially when you look like this.

He nods, and quickly fades out at my dismissal. I turn toward the mirror I'd bought from some cute little antique shop and study my reflection, still getting used to seeing myself like this again. My thick brown hair is streaked with dark red, and my human brown eyes have changed, the pupils dilated, making them look like a cat's eyes. But what makes them unique is that one of them is black with a faded scar over it, and the other one is blood red.

I bring my hand up, touching my pale skin gently; tracing the tribal symbols adorning most of my face. I notice my nails then, longer than usual, looking more like claws now then nails. They're painted in an intricate black and red pattern, slightly similar to my face. My body has changed too, it's taller and slightly more built than my human form.

I remember growing up that my 'friends' were always jealous of me. They never did look as good as I did in their demonic forms. Or their human forms for that matter. I'd learned young to use my looks to my advantage. I was an expert at using them to lure both demons and mortals to me. Lust… it is always a man's downfall.

I shake my head swiftly, pulling myself out of the past and getting myself back into the game. That was the last power I needed to get, the last witch that I had to kill. I stalk over to the stone slab and study the potions and pictures I have laying out. The potions are for protection, just in case I end up needing to get rid of my lackey before my plan unfolds.

The pictures are the research I've been doing, between the witch killings and framings that is. Pictures of the Charmed Ones going about their everyday lives. Piper, now the eldest, with her white lighter husband and her two children, Wyatt and Chris. Paige, once an only child now playing the youngest, going about her numerous temp jobs. And last, but certainly not least, Phoebe… the witch who tamed the beast formerly known as Belthazor. Her ex-husband.

She's the one I'm going to have to be careful around. Her premonitions are more dangerous then either Paige or Piper's powers at this point. She could ruin everything I've worked for if she gets one about me. And I'm not going to let her, or anyone else, get in my way. I pick up the picture of Phoebe leaving the Manor; wondering what is was that dear old Belthazor saw in her that made him want to change his ways. I run my long nail over it, the poison from my polish deteriorating it, with a half grin.

"Enjoy life while you can, Miss Phoebe Halliwell, because your life is about to be turned upside down."


	5. Meeting The Charmed Ones

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Charmed. Sad, but true...

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I stand in the ally, tapping my foot impatiently. Rodriguez was supposed to be here over four minutes ago. The incompetent brute is late as always. I swear I would have killed him already if I didn't have other plans for him. Much better plans for him. At least that's my opinion. The Charmed Ones need someone to blame for the witch killings after all.

I stick my head out, looking at the street. Mortals running around, going on with their lives, unaware of what is about to take place. I hear the brute fade in behind me, seemingly incapable of being silent at all, and I sigh. "You were supposed to be here five minutes ago! We have to stay on schedule if we want this to work." I hiss, turning to him.

He bows his head, and murmurs an apology. I just shake my head and walk farther into the ally. "Whatever, lets just get this the hell over with." I snap, anxious to be rid of him. Anxious to set my plan in motion before I lose my nerve. I close my eyes and concentrate on lowering the protective barrier around us, so the Charmed Ones will be able to get a lock while scying.

I look up at him with a grin, and nod. He hesitates, slowly forming an energy ball in his hand. I roll my eyes, and throw a low voltage lightening bolt at him, jolting him in to action. He throws ball after ball, some hitting their mark, others hitting the walls. I close my eyes, focusing on the pain, and scream for help, hoping like hell this will work. Before I know it, Paige is orbing in with Piper, who promptly blows up my lackey.

They rush over to me; Piper kneeling down to examine their so called "innocent". She touches the burns on my face gently, and quickly orders Paige to orb us back to the Manor. The only thing I can think through the pain is that orbing is majorly different then shimmering. I've never gotten this queasy when I shimmer. Not since I was a newbie.

They orb me onto the couch, and a blurry face hovers over me. I realize it's their white lighter when I feel a strange, light warmth wash over me. I try to focus on their jumbled voices, trying to locate the third one. Suddenly the pain's gone and my senses sharpen, the contrast causing me to squint for a moment.

I hide a smirk as the Charmed Ones, minus Phoebe, crowd around me. I quickly get into character, tapping into the fear and panic I'd felt from one of the witches I'd killed. "What happened? Where am I?" I mutter, looking around. I let my eyes land on Piper, knowing that her nurturing nature is going to be my ticket into their home.

She immediately lays her hand on mine, trying to calm me down. "It's okay, you're safe. We're not going to hurt you." she soothes. I sit up straighter on the couch and look at the other occupants of the room. Little Wyatt and Chris are on the floor, watching their parents and aunt intently. Paige is sitting across from the couch, and gives a small wave as my gaze lands on her.

I let my breathing quicken, imitating a panic attack. "Who the hell are you?" I demand, my voice getting high. I tap into the power from the last witch I killed, the power to mimic someone else's power, and feel my hands burn slightly as I try mimicking Piper's power. God, what a rush. She sure must love having this power.

I throw my hands up, trying to stifle the laugh bubbling up in my throat, and a vase across the room shatters. Piper immediately grabs my hand, forcing them down. Paige, who'd flown to her feet after the vase shattered, stares at me. "How'd the hell she do that?" she mutters in an awed voice.

Leo quickly kneels down next to Piper, careful not to get directly in front of me. "Hey, it's okay. This is Piper and Paige," he points at each of them, respectively. "They're the Charmed Ones. Your safe with them." he soothes, while looking warily at my hands, which Piper was cautiously releasing.

I laugh sarcastically, my breathing still uneven, and shake my head. "Everyone knows that there are three witches that form the Charmed Ones. You know, the Power of Three and all. There's only two here." I exclaim, letting the disbelief seep into my voice. I so should have been an actress. My talents were so wasted all these years.

Paige quickly speaks up, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and distrust. "Oh well, we do have another sister, uh… Phoebe. She's just at work right now." she tells me quickly, as she picks up the broken vase before the boys tried to get into it.

I open my mouth to protest, when the front door opens and the unmistakable voice of Phoebe Halliwell floats down the hall. "Where is everyone?" she calls, her voice sounding happy despite the traces of exhaustion she wasn't quite able to mask. My stomach suddenly, inexplicable, turns at the thought of adding to that exhaustion.

Piper stands up, brushing off her pants. "We're in the living room. We're trying to convince our Innocent here that we are in fact the Charmed Ones." she says, turning to the door as her younger sister walks in. "Care to help us?" Piper asks with a tired smile.

Phoebe sits down next to me, propping her feet up on the coffee table. "Hi, I'm Phoebe. One third of the Charmed Ones." she quips, holding out her hand, and looking confused when everyone panics when I bring mine up to shake hers. She looks at her sisters, a questioning look on her face. "Okay, what I'd miss?" she asks with a grin.

Paige crosses her arms in front of herself, swaying side to side. "Oh, nothing really. She just blew up a vase using Piper's power, that's all." she looks at me, cocking her head in a silent question that's mirrored in everyone else's eyes.

I duck my head, trying my best to look ashamed. "Sorry, I just kinda… panicked. I mean, it's not every day that this happens, right? And it's one of my powers. You know, to mimic other people's powers," I explain, wringing my hands together in a faux display of nervousness. "I'm so sorry about the vase."

Phoebe nods, looking back up at her sisters. "There, now we know. Now, what exactly happened with her being our innocent and all?" she questions, kicking off her shoes and getting comfortable. So far, so good. No premonitions yet, which means my spell worked. Thankfully. Spell writing has never been my strong suit.

Piper sits down on the arm of the couch, and runs a hand through her hair. "She was attacked by the demon who we think has been killing the witches. We vanquished him and brought her back here." she says. "I don't know though. He seemed pretty easy to kill. Didn't even need a vanquishing potion," she shrugs.

Paige nods, picking up Chris and sitting back in the chair. "We'll figure it out later. Now there's only one thing left… what's your name, honey?" she asks, all traces of fear or suspicion gone. And here I figured she'd be the hard one to get past. Better safe then sorry though, and a little flattery never hurt anyone, right?

I duck my head, my hair hiding my victorious smirk. "My name is Embers Larson, and it's nice to finally meet the infamous Charmed Ones." I say, smiling over at Phoebe shyly. Phase one, completed.

Now that was almost too easy.


	6. Isn't Going To Be Easy

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Charmed. But we'll just pretend I do...

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It's late, and everyone in the Manor is in bed. The perfect time for me to snoop around, check out their Book of Shadows. That is, if it'll let me. I stand in front of it, almost scared to touch it, afraid it will reject me. Me, once a fast rising threat in the underworld, afraid of a damn book. What the hell was the world coming to?

I shake my head slowly, telling myself to get a grip. I cautiously reach out my hand, taking a deep breath, and let it hover about an inch over it. My hand is shaking so bad that it brushes against the Book, and I brace myself for something. Anything, a bolt of lightening, a black hole to open up beneath me… something.

But nothing happens; my hand is just sitting on top of the infamous Book of Shadows. I bite my lower lip hard, trying not to laugh, and quickly opening the Book. I flip through till I find the page I was looking for. And then roll my eyes in part amusement part disgust at the subscripts Phoebe wrote about Belthazor's human side.

I jump at the sound of someone clearing their voice from the doorway. I look up, my heart pounding, and see Piper standing there, a small grin on her face. "What are you doing?" she asks, her voice sounding more curious than pissed, thankfully. It would suck if they figured me out on the first night.

I grin sheepishly at her, before answering. "Sorry, did I wake you? I didn't mean to." I responded quietly, casually flipping the pages away from Belthazor's page, and shifting nervously as she walks farther into the room, coming to stand right next to me.

"No, you didn't wake me. I'm just a light sleeper. You know, being a mother and all, and a witch." she says with a grin, pushing her long, chestnut hair over she shoulder. I grin back, and then look down at the book, which coincidently was open to my former lackey. Talk about luck. Maybe they're rubbing off on me already.

I feign interest, studying the page intently. "It's just kind of weird, you know. I've heard about the Charmed Ones all my life. About how they'd be three powerful good witches, destined to defeat evil. And now I'm standing in the attic, in front of their Book of Shadows, no less, and it still hasn't quite sunk in." I whisper, a bit of truth ringing in my words.

She nods, staring at me, as if trying to read me. I shiver under her piercing gaze, feeling like she's somehow looking into my soul, and seeing who I really truly am. "Who told you about the Charmed Ones?" she asks gently, her "charmed" instinct picking something up. Or maybe it's just a mother thing. Either way, my brain is screaming danger.

I sigh; closing the book and throwing a longing, disappointed look at it. "I've heard different things, from around. But my mother told me a lot about you guys. She… uh, she died when I was really, really young. I don't remember her very well." I tell her, while the demonic voice in my head is yelling at me to just shut the hell up before I slip up and reveal something incriminating.

Piper lays a sympathetic hand on my shoulder, obviously knowing a little bit about what I'm feeling. "I know how it is. I lost my mom when I was young, too." she whispers softly. I'd known that, research and all, but hearing it from her lips is weird. She almost sounds like your normal, run of the mill, everyday mortal, and not a super witch.

I nod slowly, my head clearing, realizing how fast I'm starting to actually like these witches. I smile tightly at her, vowing to myself to try and keep my distance emotionally. Hopefully it's a vow I can keep. "I'm tired. It's been a really long day. I think I'm going to go crash." I reply, easing out from under her hand.

She just smiles knowingly. "Okay. Goodnight Embers." she tells me as I walk to the door. I look back over my shoulder, seeing her open the book to a page that had been bent. The first page I was looking at, Belthazor's page. I make my way to the guest room, chastising myself as I close the door.

I guess this isn't going to be anywhere as easy as I thought.


	7. A Pain In My Own Ass

**_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Charmed. My shrink says I'm starting to accept it...

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I pace across the bedroom, tossing a fireball from hand to hand, while muttering to myself. The sisters left about a half hour ago, off to attack anther demon. They've taken to me pretty well, letting me stay with them. So far I don't think they suspect anything. Which is good, but it's bothering me a little. I mean, how many demons are they going to let wander right through their front door and welcome with open arms before they get the memo? You can't trust anyone. The first lesson you learn as a demon. The lesson I failed.

I've been through their book, cover to cover, quite a few times in the week I've been here. But so far the only things I've learned is **A**) their magic is very, very strong, and I now see why all demons fear them, and **B**) that Phoebe wrote more about Belthazor than I ever needed, or wanted, to know. It's a little sickening if you ask me. Why the hell would another witch need to know that he likes walks on the beach? God, I didn't even need to know that.

Piper has been watching me closely since our little run-in. A little too closely if you ask me. I don't know what she's thinking, but so far I don't think she has any clue as to why I'm here. At least she hasn't said anything to her sisters yet, thank god. That would be a recipe for disaster waiting to happen. And I've been watching too much of that TV.

If she told Paige and Phoebe that I was looking at Belthazor's page, they both would have freaked. Paige because she never liked him to begin with, and Phoebe because she's been through so much because of him. I wonder how she can even still function after that. She still dates, for heaven sakes. If it were me, I'd have given up on the male species. They're hopeless.

I do think that they are getting freaked out because of the way I've been avoiding them. But if I go through too many life or death situations with them, I'm going to get way too attached. And that won't be good at all, because attachments are nothing but trouble. You don't need no one but yourself. Depend on someone else, and you're just asking to be hurt.

I hear footsteps running up the stairs, heading for the attic, and quickly extinguish the fireball right as the door burst open, and Phoebe sticks her head in. "Hey, Em. We need your help in the attic." she says, quickly starting for the stairs.

I follow her as she runs up the stairs. Piper immediately locks eyes with me, and I quickly avert my gaze. Another thing I've learned about the sisters is the Phoebe isn't the only one who can tap into your feelings. The other two may not be clairvoyant like Phoebe, but they definitely know how to read people just as well. Too bad I can't come up with a spell for that.

They rush around the room, gathering ingredients for a potion, and looking through the Book of Shadows. I start as Paige orbs in behind me, and immediately rushes over to the table where Piper is mixing the potion. I hide a wince as she drops a piece of bloody flesh into the pot. "I got the flesh, like you wanted. I still don't get why I was the one who had to do it." she says as she walks over to the book where Phoebe is standing.

I stand awkwardly by the door, a little uncomfortable about being here as they mix a potion to vanquish a fellow demon. But only slightly. I mean, one less demon I have to worry about. They're about as dangerous to me as these witches are. More so even. "What do you guys need me to do?" I ask, silently thinking that I've got better things to do then stand around here.

Phoebe, who I'm surprised hasn't started suspecting something because of the fact the she can't get anything promotion wise from me, smiles and nods her head toward Piper. "You can help Piper with the potion, while Paige and I go check out another lead." she says, grabbing Paige's hand as the orb out. I can't help but make a face as I remember my one and only orbing experience. No more orbing for me, thank you. I'll stick with shimmering.

I roll my eyes at my thoughts, and turn back to Piper, who's watching me with a grin. I raise my eyebrows in question. "What?" I demand, throwing up my hands. I grin as she winces slightly, apparently remembering that day as well.

She just smirks and shakes her head. "Nothing. Would you hand me the thyme there, please?" She looks up at me as I hand it to her, studying my face carefully. "How many times have you read through the Book now? I'm starting to think you know it better then we do." she says, grinning.

I just shrug my shoulders, wondering what she's getting at. "I'm a witch, but not a very good one. Who better to learn from then the Charmed Ones and their Book of Shadows?" I tell her, hoping she doesn't bring up the bent page. All she does though is smile.

I walk over and stand next to her, feeling somewhat comfortable with her for some reason. Maybe it's the fact that my human side as always craved the love of a mother, or maybe it's just that nobody cannot not like Piper. She's a powerful witch, a kick ass woman, and a loving mother all wrapped in to one. And she's a damn good cook, too.

And she's my ticket to getting my revenge. I have to remember that… I'm not here to help these witches; I'm here to bring Belthazor back so I can kill him again. Nothing more, not until then. Maybe not even after then. I can't let myself get attached. Getting attached means emotions. And emotions… well, we've been through that already, haven't we?

My thoughts are interrupted as Paige and Phoebe orb back in, looking panicked. Piper looks up, taking in her sisters faces. "What's wrong with you two?" she asks, dropping the last ingredient in, and stepping back as it blows up. I can't help but wonder if my vanquishing potion would do that. The thought chill me to the bone.

Phoebe grabs a potion bottle, and starts filling it quickly. "Oh, nothing really. There's just a very, very angry demon on our tail, thanks to Paige." she says, capping the bottle, and shooting a look at Paige that's part humor part irritation. I've learnt that they get kinda pissy when there's a demon attack at hand.

Paige crosses her arms, glaring at Phoebe. "It's not my fault. You guys told me to get some of his flesh. So it's your fault, not mine." she snaps, walking over to stand next to me. "Right?" she asks, looking over at me. I put my hands up, not wanting to get in the middle of the sisters when they're fighting, even if it is just in fun.

Phoebe turns to her, a smirk on her face. "When we told you to get some of his flesh, we didn't mean slicing up his face. One that he was pretty attached to from what I felt." I grin as Paige shifts uncomfortably. They're so busy bantering that none of them see the demon that blinks in behind them. Turns out to be someone who I'd had a run in with after my 'comeback'. His eyes widen as he sees me, obviously remembering the unpleasant encounter.

I tap Phoebe on the shoulder, trying to get her attention, but she just brushes my hand away and keeps talking. I realize that none of them are going to listen, so I grab Phoebe's wrist forcefully, and pry the vial out of her hand. I also have to bit down hard on the urge to snap her wrist in two. Damn demon urges.

I throw the vial in the other demon's direction, but he blinks out before it hits him, and then back in on the other side of the room. Luckily, this time Piper is paying attention and quickly freezes him before he can move again. I grab the pot containing the rest of the potion off the table and pour it over his head. I fight the longing to laugh as he unfreezes and busts into flame. I do, however, spare a grin at his obvious pain.

I turn back to the sisters, not completely able to mask the traces of malice in my eyes. And I know Paige see it by the way she takes a small step back before I have a chance to blink it away. As I casually set the pot back on the table I give the demon in me a metal shake. I can't go giving into my demonic impulses in front of the Charmed Ones if I plan to succeed.

All in all, I think I'm starting to be a pain in my own ass.


	8. The Blood Of Three

**_Disclaimer: _I don't own Charmed, but I'm working on a spell to remedy that.

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One step, two steps, three steps, turn, and repeat the process in the opposite direction. The same path I've been pacing pretty much everyday since I got here. I found pacing to be relaxing for me… it helps me think. Helps me plot, plan, and obsess. Too bad it doesn't actually get anything done. Like writing the damn spell.

Luckily for me, we've been demon free for a week now. At least the risk of someone recognizing me isn't so high at the moment, and it's easier to control my demonic side without the constant hunting and killing that it craves. And that means I have more time to work on this stupid spell. Only I've never been the best at spell writing. My stuff comes out sounding like one of those crappy rap songs that this generation has the nerve to call music.

I wish I could just ask one of the sisters to help me with it, but I think that they'd be a little suspicious of me asking them to help me write a resurrection spell. I sigh, stopping at the bed and plopping face first onto it. The headache isn't helping much either. Thank goodness for modern medicine. I don't know how I ever lived without.

I pick up the half gone pad of paper that I've been using, looking over what I wrote. "Come on back so I can kick your ass? What the hell am I thinking?" I grumble, tearing the top sheet off and tossing it toward the waste basket. It misses it by a good foot, landing on the floor with the other wasted paper. This defiantly isn't good for my ego. Top notch at everything? Not this time. The Source would laugh his ass off if he could see me now.

I close my eyes, wishing that I had a muse. I am part witch after all. Shouldn't that count for something? Probably not, seeing as I've done more bad than good in my relatively short life. Sometimes it just sucks being a demon. I mean, look what it did to Balthazar. He was one of the few demons who ever found true love. But because he was a demon, the love of his life and her sisters vanquished him. Almost makes me feel sorry for the poor bastard… almost.

I wonder if Phoebe ever misses him. If, despite the pain he put her through, she wishes he were still alive, that they were still together. I wonder how she'd react if she ever found out the truth. And I wonder why I even care. I didn't come here to get attached to these witches. I mean, for all intensive purposes, they are the enemy. They're good witches; witches who kill creatures like me for a living. And here I am finding ever reason to stall this, just so I could get to know them better.

Maybe I didn't think this through all the way. I didn't count on my human half craving the chaos of family life, or the witch in me wanting to soak up everything they have to teach me about good magic. I didn't count on my anger toward Balthazar fading as I learn about what he was like as a human, about what he had gone through to try to stay with Phoebe. Now I'm starting to be a little mad at her. All he wanted to do was love her, and she killed him for it.

I didn't count on blood… wait. Maybe that's what I was looking for all long. The witches killed Balthazar. Their blood, their sweat, and their tears have gone into vanquishing him, not once but twice. Maybe that's what I need to have to get… to bring him back.

I need the blood of three… the blood of the Charmed Ones.


	9. A Mid Night Conversation

**_Disclaimer:_ I own 'em. In my mind I do own 'em, but my lawyer doesn't like me saying that out loud. He's scared we might get sued...

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I shake my head as everything goes black. That's the bad thing about not sleeping… it's hard to keep your eyes open when you're half asleep. Even harder to read when your eyes are closed. But I'm determined to find something in this damn book, if it's the last thing I do. Which if I don't find anything soon it will be the last thing I do. I can't hang around here forever.

I've been here for almost a month already, and I haven't really gotten anywhere. Yeah, sure I'm in the house of the Charmed Ones, and still alive at that. A feat in itself seeing as they aren't too keen on demons wandering the manor all hours of the night. And I think I'm close finishing the spell, not quite, but almost, getting there. I still need to figure out how to get their blood, but I don't think it'll be all that hard. I'll just have to be careful.

And I also have to figure out how I'd even get Balthazar back here without the sisters killing him before I have a chance to kick his ass. And I have to figure out where he is exactly. I mean, he has escaped the… afterlife I guess you'd call it, twice before. I doubt whoever controls who goes where would put him back there and chance him getting out again. If there is even someone who has that job… we live in a strange world, so I wouldn't be surprised if there was. Hey, it's supernatural, right? Anything is possible. Scary thought, but true.

I also have to figure out how I'm going to explain his presence; no matter how short his 'return' will be, to the sisters. And, worse yet, how I fit in with him. That's going to be the most difficult thing to explain. Not because it's majorly complicated or anything, it just I don't know if I want to relive everything again. It was bad enough the first time around.

It's bad enough having the image of that fireball coming at me ingrained into my head, but even worse is the visual I have of him… but I'm not going to get into that right now. I'm way too tired. And I think I'm starting to get soft. The first hundred times I looked at his page, that picture made me sick. The love sick puppy look on Belthazor's face disgusted me. I mean, he's a demon, damn it! He's not supposed to go all mortal on me now of all times. Now all I get is this feeling of sadness. It's sad that a love like theirs couldn't last. And that I never got to know that side of him… my own…

"Hey Em. What are you doing up?"

I jump, the voice taking me by surprise. I've realized that for a demon, I get scared quite easily. "Damn it, Phoebe! Don't sneak up on me like that. You can give a girl a heart attack." I gasp, placing my hand over my chest, trying to calm my racing heart. In all my panic, I forgot to close the book, leaving Belthazor's page in plain view. And there goes my luck again. Must be Paige's lepercon friends screwing with me.

And Phoebe, being the observant, though at times naïve, witch she is, immediately notices. But unlike the reaction I thought she'd have, she's oddly calm about it. Or as calm as Phoebe Halliwell can be when Balthazar is involved. Which is oddly calm, considering. "What are you doing?" she asks, her voice a whisper.

I look at her, a lie on the tip of my tongue. But I find that I don't want to lie to her. Not about him. But there's no way in hell that I'm going to tell her the real truth, but a half truth might do. I sigh. "I've heard a lot about him, about your relationship. I was just curious. I wanted to know more about this demon who stole Phoebe Halliwell's heart."

She doesn't say anything, just walks around to stand next to me. She trails her index finger over the picture of them gently. She's quiet for a moment, before turning to look at me. "What did you want to know exactly?" she asks, her voice sounding impossibly loud in the silence of the attic. I'm sure I can't be hearing her right, but I'm not passing up this opportunity.

I turn to face her, cocking my side to the side, studying her intently. "I was just… I was just wondering if you ever thought about him. About when you guys were together… the good times, before he screwed everything up. Do you ever miss those times?" I whisper, hoping she'll answer. And not be pissed off at me for all the questions about a very sore spot in her life.

For a moment I'm almost convinced she's either going to bitch me out, or just walk out of the room. But she does neither, thankfully. "Sometimes. I mean, he was my husband. I did love him, and I know he loved me. But the lives we were born into got in the way. He was evil, and that just outweighed the good in him." she says, closing the book on his smiling face. "You can't live in the past. You might miss out on your future if you do."

I smirk as she stares at me, obviously waiting for an explanation about all the questions. "It's just… uh, what if your future is your past? What if you made a mistake in letting go, and your future is regretting it for the rest of your life?" I inquire, curious about what her answer will be. Curious about why I'm curious in the first place. There's no way I could be having doubt about this now. Right?

She shrugs, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I don't know. I guess it depends on what it is you left behind." she says gently, smiling at the disappointed look on my face. "What? Were you expecting something philosophical or insightful at this time of night?" she laughs. I think I'm starting to realize what he saw in her. She is beautiful when she laughs.

My grin is cut off by yawn that catches me off guard. "I guess I better get to bed before I fall asleep standing up. G'night Phoebs." I squeeze her arm gently as I pass her. I don't know how I feel right now, besides tired and confused about a lot of things. These are the times when I hate thinking. I just want to go to bed and forget about this mess.

Although I have the feeling that I'm not going to be getting any sleep tonight.


	10. In Vivid Dreams

**_Disclaimer:_ Don't own 'em... still don't own 'em.**

**Italics are dream, everything else is Phoebe... **

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_The sound is deafening, a mix of screams and wails. I'd heard the sound before, except I almost think that this is worse. I just want the noise to stop, want my head to stop pounding, and the pain to go away. I try to shout, tell them to shut the hell up, but I can't even open my eyes. I can barely feel anything, except the dirt under my bloody arm._

Phoebe groans as she rolls over in bed, her arm throbbing with the same aching rhythm as her head. The soft sound of keening screams grates on her nerves, and nothing she does will stop the sound. She smoothes her hand over the sheets, seeking the cool comfort, but instead feels the rough texture of dirt scraping against her sensitive skin.

_The pain is numbing, blinding, deafening. How much longer until it stops? The voices have gotten louder, closer, more jumbled. I'm not ready to let go. I can't, not yet. I feel hands, touching me, moving me, taking me. I don't belong there. Someone tell them that I don't belong here. Someone's yelling, demanding something. Anger laced words and under lying pain. Damnit, tell them._

The pained confusion nags at her, an innate frustration at something. She can't seem to put a finger on the source of the confusion or frustration. She can't figure out where it's coming from, and the screams are getting louder. Flashes of blood and dirt skirt through the corners of her mind. She tosses and turns, trying to clear her mind of the feelings and the vague images. The sounds especially.

_I scream as fingers pry into the wound in my side. Or at least I try to scream. Nothing comes out when I open my mouth. They've taken my voice. They won't let me scream for help this time. I gag on the stale air, needing to breathe the very thing that's choking me. I try picking up my good arm, but a strong hand holds me down. Familiar. The touch feels familiar._

The pain shoots through her left side, paralyzing her body and her voice. She gasps in agony, curling into a ball, praying the pain will subside. It does, but what comes next is worse. It feels like someone has their hands around her throat. She tries in vain to draw a breath, choking as the air hits her sore throat, and phantom hands that touch her send cold tremors down her spine.

_I pry my eyes open by sheer willpower only, blinking rapidly to clear the tears. His face is blurry, half hidden by smoke, but I know it's him. I purposely ignore the tears on his face, trying to focus on what had happened. What he had done. Or, more importantly, what he didn't do. I barely have any strength left, but I sum up enough to let him know what I think of him now._

"D_a_m_n_ y_o_u."

She feels the tears start running down her cheeks, as the words whisper through the air. The feeling of betrayal knots in her stomach. A feeling she knows all too well. It's the same feeling she had when she watched two women who looked exactly like her older sisters try to kill her. The same feeling she had when she watched Cole kill another witch in her own home. It's the feeling of questioning everything you believe in. Of losing everything you believe in.

_I can't help but flinch as he presses his lips onto my forehead, feeling like he's marking me. It's a Judas kiss. He's betraying me again, the second time in a day. He's leaving me here, with them, defenseless. He's abandoning me, forsaking me. The darkness falls over me, devouring, numbing me to everything. Like it's erasing everything I've ever known. Everything I've ever loved. All that's left of me is being sucked into the numbing, cold darkness._

She shivers; feeling like something is consuming her. Something dark. She'd felt it before. She can still feel the kiss burn on her forehead; can see it in her mind on someone else's forehead. The kiss felt familiar, like she'd been kissed by the same person before. She watches the scene play out in her head, unable to look away. She watches as the faceless girl opens her eyes. The view changes suddenly, and she's looking through another's eyes. She's looking right in to the eyes of a young Cole Turner.

Phoebe gasps, right before she blacks out from pure shock.


	11. What A Girl Has To Do

**_Disclaimer:_ Charmed isn't mine... I tried a spell, but it backfired... I got a major case of writers block.**

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One thing I miss about the years I was sealed… I didn't dream. It was blissfully dark and quiet. I didn't think, over analyze things, wonder about the 'what if's'. It was like being asleep, the mind completely shut off for once. I didn't remember what had happened. Ninety eight years later, and now the images are still as clear, if not clearer, as the day it happened. It's these times when I wish I'm never been unsealed.

The dream was different last night, not the images, but the intensity of it. At some points it was so real, I couldn't breathe, at the end… it was like I wasn't alone. Like trying to carry something heavy by yourself, then having someone come and pick up the other side. It just felt lighter some how. A little easy to bear then normal.

And that kind of rattles me. I mean, I'm staying in a magical house where anything is possible. Ghosts, demons, angels, and mortals have walked through the door of this manor. It wouldn't surprise me if one of the sisters somehow rigged a supernatural dream tap. It'd be easy for them, light a few candles, chant a few words, and bam! They could be watching my dreams like a goddamn movie. I hope not, but let's face it… it is a possibility.

But honestly, the thought that maybe one of them knows, it's a mix between terrifying and relieving. Terrifying, because if the sisters knew I was a demon, there's a chance they wouldn't hesitate to vanquish me. Relieving because I wouldn't have to keep this inside anymore. All my deepest, darkest secrets laid out on the table. I wouldn't have to hide anymore. I wouldn't have to do this on my own. But there go the attachment issues again.

So now I'm a little reluctant to come face to face with any of the sisters. I don't know which one, if any; know what I'm here for… who I'm here for. I scared that they'd be able to take one look at my face, and know everything that makes me who I am. Everything that goes on in my head, and my dreams. My past, in all it's gory splendor.

I'm seriously having second thoughts about this. Who am I to make these women's lives miserable? These amazing, other worldly women, who put their 'normal' lives, and what's left of their sanity on the line every day for complete strangers. Who am I to change who I was, be so willing to kill someone? Not killing someone was what got me here in the first place, isn't it? Sometimes I think it'd be better to just have them vanquish me. I mean, I could just as easily kick his ass in the afterlife, or hell, or wherever the hell he is.

How have I gotten to this place? Yeah, sure, the bastard betrayed me in the worst way possible. Sure, I want nothing more than to make him pay. But why should I make these innocent people go through this? Because I'm a demon and it's in my nature. Is it really? Because it wasn't all those years ago. I had a part in what happened, and I did it with my eyes wide open. I chose that path, and is it really possible for me to change my mind now?

The human in me used to be stronger. It's the whole reason Balthazar did what he did. I don't know if he would have if he hadn't been instructed to, but he still did it. He may have ultimately saved my life, but he was the one who put me in the position to get hurt in the first place. I blame him, because it's easier than blaming myself for what I did. I did the right thing. I did the good thing.

And maybe I'm acting more like a demon than a mortal or a witch here. But it was the demon in me who looked up to him, who in part admires him for what he did. Embracing evil for all it's worth, something I could never do. Maybe because the good in me was too strong, too over powering. Maybe because I just wasn't cut out for it. I don't know.

And the demon in me wants, no, needs to do this. Needs to see him face to face, to maybe see a glimmer of pride in his eyes. Pride that I had survived, and maybe a little relief, though I doubt it. We were closer than most demons, but we weren't that close. We weren't close enough to morn for each other. At least not back then. Now it might be different, both of us having embraced our human souls.

So the plan goes on. I'm going to find a way to bring that son of a bitch back. Maybe not just for an ass kicking anymore. Maybe to rub it in his face that he was wrong for once. Good isn't as bad as demons make it out to be. There's more to life than killing and climbing the demonic power ladder. It can be more satisfying to save then to kill. To help then to hurt.

And, you know, whatever happens happens. If the sisters find out, so be it. I'll duck that fireball when it comes flying. Maybe they'd be able to understand. They're good people, and even better witches, but a girl has to do what a girl has to do.

And I'm gonna do what I have to do.


	12. Blinding Lights

**_Disclaimer: _I don't own 'em. The spell still needs some work...

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I can just see it now. I really truly can, but it doesn't help with the waiting. The floor is already littered with a couple notebooks' worth of paper. I just can't seem to get the spell right. It keeps coming out like some kind of lost love poem, which so isn't what I'm going for. Two lines left, damn it. It shouldn't be this hard.

I can hear it in my head; see it written out on paper. But I can't seem to make the image a reality. And that sucks, because I am a witch. I should be able to write a stupid little spell. Unless this is the 'Their' way of telling me this isn't meant to be. But I'm not going down that road just yet. I can't deal with that right now.

I've found that racking my brain for answers results in, well, no answers. It's like my mind has gone totally and completely blank. Which, under any other circumstances, would be bliss. But not when I desperately need to finish this spell. The sisters' have long since turned in. They seem to think it's normal to sleep at night and fight demons all day. I guess it probably is normal for everyone… well not counting the demon thing. That's defiantly not normal for everyone.

"Damn it!"

The words come out as a hiss of annoyance, instead of the scream I wanted them to be. I guess living in a 'civilized' household has kind of tamed me. Piper's already gotten on me twice about getting loud. I'm getting a little better at controlling myself, something my demonic side isn't too happy about. Well, screw her. The human and the witch are in charge right now.

I look down at the almost empty notebook sitting on the bed before me. The words glare back, and I swear I can hear someone laughing. You know; the evil villain laugh that's in every good vs. evil movie ever made. Yeah, that's the one. It's really starting to grate on my already fried nerves. It sounds too much like the dreams. Stupid, stupid dreams.

I trace the words with my index finger as my eyes land on the scraps of rags sitting neatly on the dresser. The rags that hold the blood of the infamous Charmed Ones. It was easy enough to get, with all the demon attacks and resulting injuries. Everything I should need to accomplish my mission sits in this room; has been for weeks. But that annoying little voice in my head start up with the guilt again.

The guilt coupled with the feeling that I'm swiftly running out of time is the reason for my untimely case of writer's block. Phoebe's been watching me a little too closely for my comfort lately. Ever since that dream. I can only guess what she may have saw or felt. I thought that the spell would protect me from her, but apparently I was wrong. Defiantly not the first time.

Depending on what she knows, it's only going to be a matter of time before she puts two and two together. I have to finish this tonight. It's the deadline I set for myself. I can't justify putting this off any longer. If I do, it may mean my death. I duck my head, and scribble the last two lines down. It doesn't matter anymore. It's never going to be perfect. I have to at least try.

I pick the notebook up with trembling fingers, kicking myself for caring so much. I slide off the bed and walk to the dresser. I haven't touched the rags since I set them down on the dresser. I feel like I'm betraying the women who've been so kind to me through all of this as I pick up the rags. Their life blood. I'm being completely selfish here, but this is just something I've got to do. It's not even a matter of revenge anymore. It's just… something.

I sit down next to the bed, the rags, the notebook, and a knife and bowl in front of me. I close my eyes as I pick up the knife and slide it across my hand. The blood burns, maybe some kind of sign that this isn't going to work. Or maybe that it will. I've never been that good at interpreting signs. Maybe I should have studied harder when I was a kid. But that's moot point now.

My mind blanks out as I go through the motions, letting my blood drop on to the rags lying in the bowl. Letting my blood mix with the Charmed Ones. The words catch in my throat as I whisper…

"With the blood of three I call to thee.  
I add my own as a token be…"

Phoebe stops in front of the door, finally deciding to confront Embers about the dream. She has her theories, but she wants to get to the bottom of this. She needs know how Embers is connected to Cole. She needs to know what the hell that dream was about. What had happened.

She hesitates, her hand posed to knock, when she hears movement inside the room. She breathes a sigh of relief; at least she won't be waking her. She taps softly on the door, waiting for an answer. All she gets is the slight sound of murmuring from inside the room.

Curious, she turns the knob slowly and pushes the door open. She barely registers the image of Embers sitting next to the bed before a bright light blinds her…


	13. Backtracking

**_AN:_ The story is set after Piper found out that Cole is in... wherever the hell it is. Limbo, I guess.**

**And this is gonna get confusing fast... try and keep up... _:-D

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I open my eyes slowly, half expecting Belthazor to be standing in front of me. Of course the other half, my human half, is mocking my demonic half for being so hopeful. After all, hadn't she been on a leash all this time? And why would a mere mortal, even with the blood of a good witch running through her veins, be able to bring back a demon as powerful as Belthazor?

But even as I open my eyes I can tell that something… something did happen. The room is the same, mostly. Except there seems to be none of my things where I left them. And the bedspread… had it always been that putrid floral print? I hear shuffling behind me, and spin around, my eyes going wide at the sight before me. Now this I wasn't expecting.

Phoebe's standing in the doorway, looking about as disoriented as I feel. I slowly pull myself to my feet, blaming my weak knees on the traces of magic still coursing through my veins and not from the fear that's clawing at my mind. Something went terrible, terrible wrong.

Phoebe finally lifts her head to look at me, confusion written all over her face. "What the hell was that?" she demands in a whisper, aware of the sleeping kids right down the hall. Aware that Piper would skin them both if they woke Wyatt or Chris up. She reaches up and pushes a lock of blonde hair out of her face.

I shake my head, glad to be telling the truth for once. Or at least, most of the truth. I have no idea what the hell just happened. If the spell worked, then Belthazor should be standing in front of me, not his ex-wife. The spell should have worked. Why the hell didn't it work?

I tilt my head, still staring at Phoebe in shock. She stares back with a mixture of panic and curiosity. I take a step forward, reaching out my hand to finger the lock of hair that fell back into her face. "When the hell you'd die your hair?" I ask, my brow furrowing in puzzlement. I could have sworn she was a brunette when she went to bed last night.

She pushes my hand away and looks at me like I've gone crazy. "I didn't die my hair. What the hell are you talking about?" she says, still keeping her voice low. I rub a hand over my eyes, hoping everything will just go back to normal. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. What the hell did happen?

I sigh, and open my eyes again. It's messed up, that's for sure. "Phoebe, honey, you're a blonde." I snap, feeling a headache forming. I should have just left well enough alone. "You can't go from being brunette to being blonde overnight unless you died it." I mutter, watching her face contort in frustration.

She glares at me, probably thinking that I'm trying to change the subject, no doubt. "I'm not a blonde." she says, "I haven't been a blonde since before Pr…" she cuts off as an unfamiliar voice call her from down stairs.

"Phoebe, where the hell are you? Piper's back!"

Phoebe stands there, seemingly frozen, before finishing her thought. "Since before Prue died."

Before I can move she's flying down the stairs, like she's suddenly possessed. I follow quickly behind her, coming to the bottom of the stairs just as Piper storms out of the house leaving Leo frozen in the foyer. A dark haired woman is standing just inside the living room. And suddenly it just hit me like a ton of bricks.

Phoebe's blonde hair, the room being different. Prue, apparently very much so alive, being crushed as Phoebe hugs her. Everything makes since now. Sort of…

How the hell we'd end up back in time?

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**Still hanging in there? Good, cause this is only the beginning...**


	14. The Mausoleum

**An: Ya'll still with me here? I haven't lost you yet, have I? Hopefully that'll still be true after you finish reading this chapter. It's a little confusing, but whatever. I did the best I could. Time traveling isn't something I have first hand experience with, sue me if I messed up some tenses. Wait, I take that back! Don't sue, please. I'm so broke. And, yes yes, I do believe that "_The Explaination_" should be coming in a chapter or two. Maybe as soon as next chapter, but I wouldn't get your hopes up too hight yet. It all depends on what my fingers and my brain decide to type out for the next chap. Who know, it could be as boring and confusing as this one is. Aw well, hope you enjoy!**

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The world spins. I blink. Everything's the same when I open my eyes. Prue seems just as shocked as I am, staring at me with a look of suspicion. Phoebe's crying, muttering indistinctively into her dead sister's shoulder. Leo's still frozen, mid speech, in the foyer. My ears are still ringing from Piper slamming the front door. An alternate universe, the past, an illusion… this is mind boggling. 

Prue's the first one to break out of her trance. She pushes Phoebe back slightly, confusion battling suspicion on her face. "Uh, Phoebe, honey, what's going on? Who the hell is this?" she asks, glaring slightly at me as I wave timidly.

"Yeah, uh, Phoebs, can I, uh, talk to you, please?" I stutter, feeling vaguely uncomfortable under the eldest, the deceased Halliwell's stare. Now that is what I envisioned the Charmed Ones first impression being like. Threatening, accusing, and just a little bit awe inspiring. "Um, you know, alone."

Phoebe turns to look at me, her eyes still bright with tears, confusion coloring her face. "What the hell is going on, Embers?" she asks, her voice soft, her hand latched tightly around her big sister's. "Just… why? Prue… she's, she's here," she utters, her voice breaking.

That statement just confuses Prue even more. "Of course I'm here, Phoebs! Why the hell wouldn't I be there? And who the hell is this? Damnit, did she see Piper use her magic?" her voices drops to a whisper on the last sentence, worry joining the fight with suspicion as she glances over at me. Worry that her sister might be exposed or worry that I did something to push Phoebe over the edge? Maybe both, judging from that glare. I think I like this sister.

I jump down the last two steps, and extend my hand toward Prue, who ignores it and continues glaring at me. "Hi, Embers Larson. I know Phoebe from… um…" I trail off as I take a small step back; hoping Phoebe picks up the hint. This was not the outcome I'd hoped for when I cast that resurrection spell. I was hoping for Belthazor to be standing in front of me. That would have been a hell of a lot easier to deal with then this. A twice dead demon I can handle. A resurrected Charmed One, on the other hand…

"Um, school. We know each other from school," Phoebe finally jumps in, the reality of the situation dawning on her. "We were studying when I hear you call me, so I, uh, we… just came down. Sorry, I forgot to tell you that she was here, and… yeah," she forces a grin, and reluctantly backs away from her sister.

Prue, still glaring, doesn't seem convinced. Now I am certainly screwed. And of course my downfall comes in the form of the dead sister, not the three live and kicking ones. There's poetic justice in that, I guess. Course, now this is all starting to fall into place. Call for a demon, get a witch. Calling blood with blood, using the sisters' blood. Of course it all adds up to getting the other sister. I really have to think things through before I jump in headfirst.

I hold my breath as Prue opens her mouth, surely about to drill me about the fact that I just saw her little sister freeze her husband… or is it boyfriend right now?… and I'm not completely flipping out. Well, that's not true, I'm freaking out big time here, but not over Piper freezing Leo. I mean, she freezes him on a pretty much daily bases… or will freeze him on a… you know what? Never mind. Thank god for unfreezing whitelighters.

Leo blinks in confusion, the emotion of the day it seems, taking in the three women, minus his wif… girlfriend. Damn I cannot keep track. "Phoebe, where'd you com… damn, she froze me, didn't she?" Leo asks, cutting Prue off before she can get a word out. "Which way did she go? Upstairs?" he asks, looking a Prue. Small favors and all.

I grab Phoebe's arm and drag her back up the stairs, hoping to get back to my room before Prue turns her attention back to the "stranger" in the house. Phoebe, thankfully, doesn't protest, and follows me quickly into the room before shutting and locking the door. Not that it'd keep Prue out, but still, it's the thought that counts, right?

She turns to be, her eyes wide in disbelief. "What the hell is going on? How the hell did we get back to the past? And don't you dare tell me you have no idea, because I have a feeling that you know exactly what's going on here," she pauses to take a deep breath, propping her hands on her hips. "Spill it, Embers. Now."

I groan, falling backwards onto the bed. I knew I'd have to tell them sooner or later, but I was really hoping it would be later. As in way, way, way in the future later. After I'd given Belthazor a piece of my mind, and kicked his ass back to wherever he's hiding. Preferably, in a time where I actually, sort of exist. And she's still staring at me, waiting for an answer. And, oh god, there's Prue coming up the stairs.

I sit up quickly, grinning weakly at Phoebe. "Well, this isn't exactly the way I wanted to tell you, but… extenuating circumstances and all," I stand and pull her hands up, grasping them tightly in mine. "Just don't freak out and try killing me, please. I'd appreciate it."

Before she can say anything, before Prue can unlock the door with her telekinesis, I've shimmered us out of the room and somewhere that's because quite familiar to both of us, or will be in years to come. She pulls back with a gasp as she looks around the damp room. She whispers two words laced with overwhelming emotion.

"_The mausoleum_."

* * *

**Ah! I know, right? Phoebe knows... sorta. Maybe, maybe it could be next chapter. I'll try to get my brain and fingers to agree to it, okay? Now... let me know what you thought. HINT:_The more reviews I get, the more inspired I am to write_:TNIH**


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